


you are (my best part)

by risquetendencies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Comfort, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, Insecurity, Journalist!Akaashi, M/M, Older Characters, Pro Athlete!Bokuto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-08 22:30:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12263376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risquetendencies/pseuds/risquetendencies
Summary: "I can’t measure up to you, Koutarou. You’re exceptional.”If it reminds Koutarou of anything, it reminds him of himself on his worst days. But not Akaashi. Never Akaashi. Akaashi has always been his solid ground.(Or, when Bokuto confronts Akaashi about why he's been gloomy lately, the answer is not what he expects).





	you are (my best part)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [livecement](https://archiveofourown.org/users/livecement/gifts).



"Who would you say was the MVP today?"

Koutarou purses his lips, counting to five in his head. If he does that, it will seem like he's giving the question due consideration. That's what people watching the interview like, he's been told. Not blurting out answers in a rush so fast that occasionally, he puts words out of order, or forgets where he left off and changes the subject without finishing a thought. Never mind that he always knows what he wants to say. That's one of his good points - he's decisive when it comes to opinions.

"Probably Yoshino, if I had to pick one guy," he answers toward the microphone the reporter is holding.

Probably is a word Coach tells him to make more use of interviews. It's another way to seem more... something. He can't remember the word Coach had said he needed to be like. Basically, more like he isn't always sure of what he thinks. Because other people might think different. And they gotta feel like Koutarou might agree with them. Even if he doesn't.

"Ah yes. Your setter has been on a hot streak lately, hasn't he? Seems like that trade paid off."

Koutarou pauses, waits, and then answers him again.

"Yeah, I think we probably got lucky there."

Without thinking about it, his eyes move past the reporter to the media box high up in the stands. It's difficult to tell from where he's standing, but he imagines one of the people up there is Akaashi.

Luckily, the next question gets aimed at one of the blockers, and he's off the hook. So instead he continues staring in the same direction, and sorts through the nostalgia that is creeping up on him.

The very first interview he ever did, in high school at Interhigh, he'd done with Akaashi. They'd represented the team as a duo, the captain and vice-captain. It's been ages since Akaashi has stood next to him in an interview.

If Koutarou gives it more thought, it's like over time, the distance between them in this setting has gotten steadily wider.

For a few years they'd interviewed together. Then he'd graduated from university, and they gave their first separate interviews, Akaashi still on the college team, and him as a new pro. A year later, Akaashi graduated and swapped sides, conducting interviews as a sports journalist rather than being asked the questions. Eventually, he went behind the camera and started learning producer stuff. Now, several years down the road, he's in the media box, heading up the entire broadcast.

Koutarou's proud of him. That feeling outweighs any loneliness he feels, at least most of the time.

They get to go home together, though, and that's what nullifies the rest.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Akaashi is working when Koutarou makes it upstairs, flanking an editor at their computer giving them directions on how to cut the clip on-screen. From across the room, he pauses for a moment to take it in. If there’s one thing that hasn’t stopped fascinating him, even after so many years together, it’s the moments he gets to watch Akaashi from a distance. He’d say it’s probably because he’s used to being at the center of a moment with him, and probably wouldn’t even be wrong in that case.

Koutarou leans against the doorframe. Someone at a desk nearby spares him a cursory glance before going back to whatever they’re doing. He’s not really an unusual sight up here anymore. To the herd of producers and editors, Koutarou is a good friend of Akaashi’s.

They’ve both been careful to keep it that way, he thinks grumpily. Pushing the thought away, he crosses his arms over his chest and refocuses.

Akaashi’s finger is tapping on the screen, drawing a line between two points. The editor stares at it for a second, and then Koutarou watches him turn his head to reply. He seems grateful about whatever Akaashi suggested. Koutarou smiles like a fool, bouncing on his heels. Akaashi’s skilled at his job. He knows that, but it’s always nice to see proof.

Across the room then, he sees Akaashi heave a sigh, shifting to the next desk over. The sigh reminds him of part of the reason he’d hurried up here.

He’s kind of noticed it a lot lately, but Akaashi has seemed… different, even at home. Not in glaring or dramatic ways, really just the smallest ones, but it’s still noticeable. Koutarou isn’t sure when Akaashi started changing, though, because it could be longer than he knows of. Akaashi is pretty good at hiding stuff, and Koutarou knows he himself is not always an observant person. All the more reason why he’s concerned now.

If he had to describe it in a word, Akaashi has been dull compared to his usual self. The sharp edges have faded somewhat, and he’s been withdrawn. Koutarou thinks maybe something is making him blue. But so far it hasn’t been bad enough for him to stage an intervention. Akaashi is testy about his emotions; Koutarou knows from prior mishaps that until Akaashi hits a certain level of miserable, he doesn’t want to be confronted about it or offered help. He bristles if you try anything too soon.

This morning, Koutarou had gotten the feeling that the right time was drawing near.

First and most shockingly, Akaashi had tea for breakfast. It wasn’t the tea that was the problem, it was that he hadn’t eaten anything with the tea!

Shaking his head, Koutarou remembers him shrugging off his offer of an omelette.

Really, that was enough to know that things had reached a new low.

Looking for a distraction, he turns to one of the monitors on the wall. It's displaying the evening news. Outside an official looking building, he sees a bunch of protestors waving signs, some with friendlier messages than others. Koutarou's eyes linger on one. ' _Marriage is a human right_. _'_  And while he's not certain about the wording, he finds himself agreeing. There must be a vote going on. But it's not the first vote that has come and went without it ending the way it should.

He's grown tired of getting his hopes up. 

“Can I… get you anything, Bokuto-san?”

Blinking, he notices the production assistant hovering by him. Or is the guy an intern? He’s never sure how that hierarchy goes. What the difference is between assistant and intern – they seem to do the same kind of stuff in the end. Only one of them has a degree already.

“Nope, I’m good!”

The guy is earnest enough to keep asking, though, and so in the end Koutarou has to assume intern. If he was getting paid, he wouldn’t have to try so hard.

By the time Koutarou heads him off for good, Akaashi is making the rounds in another section of desks. Graphic design and captioning, if he’s remembering right. A lot of what happens in the next couple minutes seems the same from where he’s standing, so Koutarou starts to feel a little antsy.

If nothing else, he’s gotta coax Akaashi into having a decent dinner. It’s not like him to not eat, and he’s been busy with the match up until now, so he isn’t sure if Akaashi had lunch. Thus, dinner is important. As is talking about stuff, which he fully intends on doing now.

Charged up with determination, Koutarou leaves his vantage by the doorway and barrels toward the opposite end of the control room.

“Akaashi!” he calls. The word gets there long before he does. Akaashi turns at the sound of his name, looking upon him with an expression that is only marginally more alive than seconds before.

“Good game, Bokuto-san.”

Koutarou’s foot snags on the carpeting as he stops.

He hasn’t been ‘ _Bokuto-san’_ to Akaashi for a while. Even though they’re trying to keep up appearances and everything, so that Akaashi can be a professional boss type guy, when he’d got promoted, Akaashi had made him a concession. Since they were supposed to be close friends anyway, he would lighten up his address to Koutarou-san. It was them meeting in the middle, Akaashi had said. The honorific would still be dropped at home. Koutarou had happily agreed.

They need to talk, now.

“Err, thanks? Hey, hey, Akaashi, can we talk in your office?”

Akaashi’s eyes, which seem blacker under the lighting than the dark green he knows they are, zero in on him. He shoots him a look that seems to say he thinks the opposite is true: something is up with Koutarou. And that’s understandable, given his behavior, Koutarou thinks, but what he needs right now is for Akaashi not to question it and let him get them in a room alone together.

He stares back fervently, trying to transmit the importance of that need through to his boyfriend’s brain.

“We can.” Akaashi then addresses the woman he’d been collaborating with. “Please excuse me, Ito-san. I think with those changes, it should be set to air. Could you let everyone know that I will be leaving for the night after I speak with Bokuto-san?”

Ito gives him a mock salute.

If it was a normal night, Koutarou might have appreciated the humor in the gesture more, toward someone of Akaashi’s personality. But he’s too worried to comment right now. At least Akaashi gave them an excuse to take off, though. That part of his brain, along with the intercepting eye contact messages part, seems to be working okay, which is a little comforting. It’s not all grim.

With that thought to center him, Koutarou follows Akaashi down the hall to his office.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Once they’re there, it occurs to him that they could have gone home. But since Akaashi walked them here and shut the door behind them, it must not have registered for him either.

Like always, they turn on the television in the corner of the room to drown out their conversation and settle on the couch. Akaashi sits upright rather than sinking back into the cushions. Koutarou decides to mirror his wariness, and they wind up staring at each other for a solid thirty seconds before anyone tries to break the silence.

He gets there first, which isn’t all that surprising. For multiple reasons.

“Why am I my last name again?” Koutarou asks, just short of whining. Which he isn’t proud of, but it had hurt, not hearing the name he has the privilege of being used to these days.

“Is that why you’re upset?” Akaashi asks back. The way he says it lets Koutarou know he heard the whine.

“No!” But then he thinks better of it, adding, “Kind of.”

He gets one raised brow for his trouble, but no response.

Huffing, Koutarou trudges forward with the original plan. “You’ve been actin’ odd, Keiji. What’s going on with you?”

“There’s noth-“

“Bullshit,” he cuts him off.

“I think I know well enough what I am feeling.”

“ _I_ think I’ve known you a really long time and I’m not stupid,” Koutarou counters. “If you won’t tell me what it is, it must be something that’s bothering you a lot. But that’s what I’m here for. You know? So trust me a little, babe.”

Akaashi looks at him as if weighing it over. He finally lets out the breath he’s been holding in, and tries to appear put out.

“You use that name at the worst times,” he tells Koutarou, who doesn’t feel the least bit remorseful about it. After all, even if it’s only by one percent point, Akaashi does seem more relaxed. That’s a win, for him.

Reclining into the couch, Koutarou stretches his arm out across the back of it. Tentatively, Akaashi sits back, just outside of being enveloped by him. Progress, Koutarou thinks. He didn’t try to stage this talk too soon.

He keeps his arm where it is and watches Akaashi closely.

"I may be up for another promotion."

Just from the way he says it, Koutarou picks up on there being a catch. Even if it weren't obvious from Akaashi's tone, his expression flattens out into a grimace, all the lines around his eyes and mouth becoming prominent.

Koutarou bites his tongue. Asking why getting promoted could be a bad thing is redundant now. He knows better than to blurt something out when Akaashi will surely explain. Doesn't mean it's easy not to, though, he thinks, bouncing his leg as he waits.

“I would be a rather young station general manager. However,” Akaashi pauses. Here’s the catch, Koutarou thinks, furrowing his brows. He leans forward in anticipation. “When Suzuki-san was discussing it with me, we also discussed setting up a meeting. With him, his wife, and their daughter.”

His breath hitches a little. They exchange a look, and from Akaashi’s half, his guilt is apparent.

“I’m sorry Koutarou. I said at the time that I would have to think about it. …I should have said no outright.”

Though he’s already there, Koutarou tries to sink deeper into the couch cushions as he wrestles with his reaction. It feels like there’s a giant lump in his throat, and at the same time he wants to fire back with words he knows he’ll regret if he lets them loose. If he were in the same situation, he would have said no – wouldn’t he?

He inhales sharply through his nose.

He’d like to think he would have. And he probably would have. But that’s him, isn’t it?

His job hinges on him playing well in matches and keeping up with team training. And all the other stuff, like interviews. In pro volleyball, you don’t worry about moving up a ladder. It’s more like you want to stay limber. He has the luxury of not bowing and scraping to many people to stay employed.

This isn’t the first time Akaashi has had to say or do stuff to keep his career moving forward. They’ve dealt with each hurdle together, like downplaying their relationship. Koutarou only has to think about that to know this isn’t an outrageous turn of events.

Still, no one’s threatened to take Akaashi away from him permanently before.

“You should’ve. But I get it.” Koutarou clenches the hand that’s resting on his lap, and then forces himself to loosen it. “He’s your boss and you gotta try and play nice.”

Akaashi’s brows raise. He stares at Koutarou in slight disbelief.

“Usually. But in this instance, it was inappropriate of me to do so. I-” he pauses, looking down. “After that, I couldn’t bring it up, though I should have told you sooner. At first it was because I was ashamed of my answer, but then-”

Akaashi quivers where he’s sitting, and it makes Koutarou lean closer instinctively. But a second later, his boyfriend places a hand on his chest to nudge him away.

“Things have been going well for you, Koutarou. Setting a point record, being asked to the all-star match, among other things. You’ve had a big year.” He hears an unsteadiness in Akaashi’s voice, too, and it’s setting all his nerves ablaze with concern.

“After a while, I didn’t bring up Suzuki-san’s proposal because I was doing a great deal of thinking. Not about the girl. But about whether something like that was more… fitting for an average person like me. I can’t measure up to you, Koutarou. You’re exceptional.”

The statement shocks him to his core.

It sounds nothing like the guy he’s been in love with for so many years.

If it reminds Koutarou of anything, it reminds him of himself on his worst days. But not Akaashi. Never Akaashi. Akaashi has always been his solid ground. Complete with a self-worth that isn’t easily shaken because he knows his limits and works within them. He doesn’t have to wrestle with his brain like Koutarou often does. Or so it’s always seemed. Now he’s not sure how true any of it is, and that scares him.

Pushing past the hand blocking him, Koutarou grips both of Akaashi’s arms. It feels like if he doesn’t get a hold on him right now, then Akaashi will drift even further away. He can’t let that happen.

“I wouldn’t be doin’ so great if I weren’t with you,” he insists. Without seeing it, he knows the fear is showing clearly on his face, because between that and grabbing onto him, Akaashi is making eye contact again.

“You would. You’ve,” Akaashi grapples for words, eyes sliding away for one brief moment. “You’ve worked very hard. On all of your issues.”

“I’m not discounting the work I’ve done,” Koutarou responds emphatically. “But Keiji, I couldn’t have gotten through a lot of that stuff if you weren’t with me. When I couldn’t do stuff, you were there for me. When I needed someone to rely on, I could with you. More than anyone else out there.”

Slowly, he slides his hands down Akaashi’s arms and holds both of his hands, squeezing them tight. They’re a little bigger than his own, and the tips of Akaashi’s fingers curl against his as they intertwine.

“And babe, look at you. You’re so smart, and serious, and talented and like, everything! Don’t know how you don’t think you’re good enough, because believe me, I know I’m lucky. Real lucky.”

Koutarou gives their connection another grounding squeeze and lets his words speak for themselves. He keeps his eyes firmly on his boyfriend’s face, scanning for a reaction that takes a while to materialize. Akaashi’s expression wavers several times. Finally, tears start to leak out from his eyes and Koutarou’s heart clenches hard. In the intervening seconds, his gaze flickers between watching the teardrops’ trajectory and circling back toward Akaashi’s eyes.

“A real partner to you would not have hesitated in the situation I was put in.”

“You _are_ my partner!” He blurts it out without thinking, but the words give him courage. Gaining steam, Koutarou surges on before he can be interrupted. Beside him, Akaashi looks shell-shocked.

“Maybe that bit was wrong, but I forgive you! If I’m so great, then listen: you’re the single best thing that’s ever happened to me, Keiji.”

Only silence greets that declaration. Incredibly, it doesn’t diminish his determination, but heightens it instead.

“I’d do anything to hold onto you forever. So please,” a little bit desperate, he uses their link to reel Akaashi in closer. “Please don’t let go. Okay?”

Koutarou wraps both arms around him, pulling Akaashi into a hug. He needs that much, and maybe despite him not responding, it’s something that Akaashi really needs too. Raising a hand, he places it on the back of Akaashi’s head, pressing him gently against his shoulder. His fingers begin to comb through the dark, messy strands of hair, and Koutarou feels a shaky breath wash over his skin where they’re pressed together. Then, miraculously, he feels Akaashi ease into the embrace. He holds him back.

Koutarou hugs him even tighter.

They stay that way for long enough that he loses track of the minutes passing by. At length, Koutarou pulls back just enough to look at him.

“I can’t make you think you’re enough,” he says, a little regretful. “But you are to me, okay? You’re my real partner and everything. I don’t want another one.”

Akaashi finally stares him in the eye again.

“I never wanted to let you go, either.”

Koutarou’s heart clenches, only this time, it’s in a good way.

“I love you immensely, Koutarou. I apologize for not sharing any of these happenings with you earlier.”

Relief trickles down through every pore of his body, and he lets out a loud sigh. Akaashi watches him closely as he does, and it’s only after a few seconds that Koutarou realizes he is probably waiting for a reply. Buoyed by the relief, he leans in and presses his forehead against Akaashi’s. He smiles.

“I love you too.”

Their noses graze each other, and then their lips, meeting in a gentle kiss. The world is quiet, and the sensation of Akaashi’s lips melding with his is all Koutarou can focus on until, abruptly, he hears what sounds like a loud cheer go up.

Pulling back, he looks around in a daze until his eyes zero in on the television across from them. That’s where the cheer seems to be coming from. Akaashi’s hand tugs on his shoulder with impatience, but Koutarou ignores him, reading the banner at the bottom of the news program as it spells out the headline. By the time he finishes reading it, his eyes have gone wide, and for an entirely different reason than kissing his boyfriend, it feels like his heart is beating faster.

“Keiji!”

Turning back, Koutarou faces him with his most serious face.

“Keiji, we should get married.”

Akaashi stares back at him, and he can tell he’s bewildered by the sudden proposal. Koutarou jabs a finger in the television’s direction.

“Look at the T.V! They made it okay now! We can get married!”

Akaashi reads the headline for himself, silently. Koutarou reads it off aloud, just because he can, and because each word feels like a personal triumph.

_“The Diet just passed a bill legalizing same-sex marriage. Related bills expected to follow in the coming days.”_

He turns his gaze on the man beside him, feeling at once excited, hopeful, and a little like he wants to throw up. Not that much though, Koutarou amends to himself. He’s pretty sure he’ll get the answer he wants to hear. They've never spent a lot of time talking about a wedding, but only because they never thought it'd happen. Still, he knows in his heart that they're on the same page about it.

Akaashi nods once.

That’s the answer. Even if he doesn’t hear it, exactly. Akaashi isn't letting go of him. There will probably be days where he thinks that's better, and there will probably be days where Koutarou thinks it from his end too. But for right now, he doesn't have to worry about it.

Instead, he leans in to kiss his fiancé.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for a drabble request on Tumblr for @livecement - Prompt 71: _“You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me.”_


End file.
